


Hold Up

by LZlola



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Guns, M/M, Mild Language, really just something fun I wanted to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LZlola/pseuds/LZlola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth led a boring life. That wasn’t a supposition; it was a fact. That is, until some blond-haired, blue-eyed man with a smile that almost stops his heart waltzes into his bank and tries to rob it. Obviously AU. Ambrollins one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Up

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be updating my other stuff right now, but this popped into my head and I couldn’t let it go. This AU doesn’t closely follow the current federal regulations on banks. I had considered having this fic take place before 1991, when the bank security standards weren’t as strict, but that would require me to be actually knowledgeable at writing about the 70s or 80s. Which I’m not. This IS a one-shot.
> 
> Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don’t own it. Title is taken from a Demi Lovato song (shut up, I love her). “Devil in blue eyes and blue jeans” line is inspired from "Somebody’s Knockin’" by Terri Gibbs. True Detective, Candy Crush, Hulu and any other pop culture references I’ve forgotten to mention are not mine.

There are some really great benefits to working at a small-town bank in the middle of Iowa.

There’s a lot of downtime since there’s only about 200 residents and they’re mostly rich folks who do their banking in the big city where they work.

Seth can virtually get away with anything when the old boss isn’t around, including, but not limited to, playing Candy Crush on his phone for hours, watching about half of the new season of True Detective and taking a lunch break for 3 hours.

And that’s on a busy day.

So taking all of that into account, the pay is spectacular, especially for a kid just out of high school.

But the one major downside, of course, is that it’s really fucking _boring_.

Seth once debated whether counting ceiling tiles was a more interesting alternative to counting floor tiles. Seriously – he wrote a list of pros and cons and everything.

But today is not one of those days.

“Well, well, well. This should be a piece of cake.” It comes out of the mouth of a messily-groomed blond, wearing a black hoodie and jeans, as he strolls into the bank.

Seth’s never seen him before – a _very_ alarming thing for Conroy – and there’s an immediate uneasiness in his stomach.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” Seth’s voice wavers a bit, but he puts on a smile as he tries to covertly reach for his phone just in case he has to call police.

Security at the bank is pretty shoddy and the only alarm system they have is for the back vault, its existence probably only due to federal regulations.

But to be fair, Conroy, Iowa hasn’t seen _real_ crime in more than three decades. Seth once even considered robbing the bank himself, just to see how long it would take for someone to notice.

Seth didn’t, of course, but that was because it was almost too easy. His boss insists that they don’t need the newer, more complicated technology that safeguards the bank from a robbery attempt.

In other words, from times like these.

“You all alone?”

He’s got a confidence in his voice, a swagger in his walk and a glint in his eyes that makes Seth believe that the man is enjoying the hell out of this. As he comes closer, Seth gets a better look at him and realizes that if it weren’t for his confidence, he’s not exceptionally threatening. Sure, he’s got some muscle on him, but actually, he looks pretty harmless, with his blue eyes and big dimples and all.

Seth thinks he could take him. Or at least stall until the cops show up. The law enforcement of Conroy isn’t known to respond quickly due to the fact that, again, there’s no real crime here.

“My boss should be here soon.” It’s a flat-out lie. His boss is out of town today, but before, as a teen who would sneak out all the time in search of _something_ in the city, Seth fancied himself to be a pretty good liar.

Instead, the man gives Seth a knowing smile.

Damn. Maybe not that good, considering he’s trying to lie to a guy _who robs banks for a living_. Seth fumbles with his phone and tries to get out of his Hulu app to dial the police.

“Something interesting you got there?”

Seth takes his hand off his phone immediately and looks the stranger in the eye. “No.”

“Nice day out, huh?” The man grins widely at the change in subjects and starts to whistle a happy tune. He’s actually pretty good.

It should be creepy; from Seth’s limited knowledge about dangerous criminals and ax murderers in movies, they’re all very good whistlers and great at carrying a tune.

But this guy…he’s actually oddly…charming?

Seth nods his head after a brief hesitation. “I’ve never seen you around here before,” Seth starts. “You new to the area?”

“You could say that.”

“So would you like to start a new account with us? Right now, we’re offering a great promotional interest rate on our -” he rattles off nervously.

“Look here, kid,” he starts, clasping his hands together and placing them on the counter.

“I’m not a kid,” Seth interrupts. His eyes widen at his own stupidity.

But the man doesn’t seem upset, rather, he looks pretty amused. “Look here, pretty boy-”

“I’m not-”

“You are,” he assures. That shuts Seth up pretty quickly. Seth tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear, and he thinks he can feel his face getting red as he manages to keep his gaze steady on the man, who is smirking and ogling him a little too blatantly.

“Look sweet cheeks, we all know what I’m after and we all know how this is going to end…so let’s make it easier on the both of us, eh?”

Seth wants to protest the nickname the man has given him once again, but the man fakes a cough and begins to straighten up, brandishing a .45 tucked in his waistband.

_Oh._

It’s weird. Seth knows he should be frightened.

But instead, he’s intrigued.

Here’s this guy, not much older than him, robbing a bank as if it were just another Tuesday, with a gun on his body as if it _belongs_ there.

The man looks like he’s got stories to tell, like he’s seen everything out there that needs to be seen and he’s seen everything that anyone would want to see.

And yet, he’s still having the time of his life.

Seth doesn’t realize he’s staring until the man purses his lips out and winks at him. Seth clears his throat and proceeds to gather up the money underneath the counter.

The man begins to whistle again, but the tune is a bit slower, more ominous.

Seth looks up every few seconds, only to see the man’s eyes trained on him every single time. He takes out a couple of stacks each of ones, fives, tens and twenties and settles the stacks on the counter.

“Sorry, we’re not usually very busy. This is all we have,” Seth lies.

He raises his eyebrows. “You sure?”

Seth gulps.

“Because I just passed by some really nice cars and houses on my way here…”

“They do their banking in Williamsburg.” Seth’s voice gains more confidence the more he talks. “There’s a big outlet mall there so that’s where all the money is.”

“Thanks for the tip.” If the man realizes that Seth is lying, he chooses to ignore it. Instead, he gestures towards the door on the adjacent wall. “Vault?”

“I- the manager isn’t here.”

The man hums in response and Seth thinks for a long minute that the man knows that Seth can open it himself and that he’s been putting up a charade this entire time and then the man’s going to put that gun to his head and this is how it’s all going to end for him. He’ll never get to do anything or accomplish anything before he has to bite the dust.

This is it.

“Okay.”

Seth lets out a small sigh of relief, and he carefully avoids staring into the man’s eyes as he pushes the money forward. Seth watches out of the corner of his eye as the man proceeds to painstakingly go through each and every stack.

“Lucky you said it’s never busy here, huh?”

“Yeah, lucky,” Seth chuckles half-heartedly. When the man seems to be preoccupied counting the money, Seth again reaches for his phone and finally manages to dial 911.

But before he can do anything else, the gun he saw at the man’s waist before is now sideways, pointed at his chest.

“And here I thought we had an understanding.” His voice is now low and gravelly and _fuck_ , now Seth knows why he’s chosen the career path of a criminal.

“We did,” Seth panics, “I mean, we do. I don’t know what –”

“Hang up,” he demands. Seth doesn’t have to be told twice. Or once, for that matter.

“Already done.”

“Now, I know you’re not being completely upfront with me. I can tell when a guy is trying to hide some cash from me,” he says, his hand jerking the gun up and down as he continues.

“I seriously don’t-”

“Don’t you?” His eyes are as clear as the ocean blue and they can see right through Seth’s lies. But it just makes Seth all the more confused. Why would this man just let it go? Why the hell would a criminal _with a gun_ let some so-called _pretty boy_ cheat him out of a bunch of cash?

“I can give you more money,” Seth blurts out.

“I don’t want the money,” he replies harshly.

Seth wrinkles his forehead. “That makes no sense. You’re a bank robber. That’s _all_ you want.”

“Hey, I’m still learning here and now you got the cops involved and I was just tryna be _nice_.” Seth obviously hits a nerve with the man because the man’s grip on the gun is getting looser and his index finger is shifting away from the trigger.

Seth is getting more and more confident that he can get into this man’s head and talk his way out. “Well, maybe don’t be nice and hold me at gunpoint right from the get-go, and I’ll give you everything from the start.”

“Hey, who the hell do you think you are? Shut up, I’m in charge here!” His eyes are wild, and Seth can see sweat beading down his neck as he waves the gun in the air. He’s shaking and emotional.

He’s vulnerable.

So that’s when Seth decides to make a name for himself.

Now, to be clear, Seth doesn’t think he’s very strong. He’s got a decent size and he’s kind of tall, but he’s not some guy who’s going to overtake someone from brute force alone.

But with his workouts at the gym a few times a week, he’s never thought of himself to be weak.

Seth backs up a little and somersaults over the counter, crashing onto the man’s head and effectively grounding him. The gun drops out of the man’s hand and slides across the floor. In an instant, Seth is back up on his feet and he grabs the gun off the floor, while the man scrambles to the counter in retreat, seemingly in shock at how easily he’s been overtaken.

“You’re in charge, are you?” Seth points the gun at the man, and honestly, it feels really _fucking_ good to have this kind of power.

It’s exhilarating.

The man slowly gets up and braces his hands on his knees, out of breath. “Fuck, you’re quick. How the fuck did you do that?”

Seth ignores his comment. “Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you.”

The man immediately backtracks. “Woah, calm down, pretty boy,” he says, waving his hands in the air as his back digs into the counter.

“You think calling me ‘pretty boy’ is going to make me calm down?”

The man pauses a moment as he’s in deep thought, but he just grins. “Nope.”

Seth looks at him with utter astonishment. Here Seth is, with the man’s own gun in his hand, and the man couldn’t care less. This guy would risk his own life just to have a little fun with him.

“I swear I will shoot you,” Seth warns.

“Nah, you won’t.” He hops up onto the ledge as if he’s as good as new and sits on it with his feet dangling precariously. The confidence makes Seth gasp a little, but he continues to aim the gun at him.

“How do you know?”

He slinks his way towards Seth. “You’re smart. You know you don’t need to shoot me to win, and you don’t want that on your conscience. You also just did some crazy-ass, flippy gymnastics to take me out - you obviously don’t like taking the easy way – the simple way – out.”

“Plus,” the man drawls, pressing his chest _right up against_ the barrel of the gun. He pushes the gun in Seth’s hand backwards and leans in close so that Seth can feel the warmth of the man’s hard body radiating against his own and his breath caressing his lips as he whispers. “I’m the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Seth almost drops the gun.

The sirens start to sound in the background.

“Cops are here,” the man breathes, pulling away from Seth and gently, effortlessly prying the gun out of Seth’s hand. He grabs the remaining stacks of cash that have fallen to the floor in their brief scuffle and he hurriedly thumbs through them to ensure the authenticity.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Seth exclaims, snapping out of his trance and grabbing the man’s arm.

“Sorry, pretty boy, unless you wanna join me, I gotta run.” He throws him a wink and shakes off Seth’s grip, before stuffing the stacks of money into the front of his jacket. The man is halfway out the door when he stops for a second, obviously not worried about the rapidly approaching sirens outside, and looks back at Seth.

“I mean, I could always use a co-conspirator.”

Seth looks at him speechless.

_Wait. What?_

The sirens from the lone police car in this town are almost at their doorstep, and here, standing in front of Seth, with a lopsided smile and the eyes of what has to be the devil in blue eyes and blue jeans, is the most interesting thing that _will ever_ happen to him, just waiting for his response.

“So you comin or not?” he asks one more time, his eyebrows raised in invitation.

Seth looks around at the bank, at his home, at everything he’s ever known for his 19 years of life.

And then he turns back to the captivating man in front of him.

The sun highlights the soft curls around his ear and Seth drowns in the deep dimples that form as the guy’s lips curl up into a smirk.

And it’s only _then_ that Seth realizes his own feet are moving beneath him, _with_ _him_ , as they’re both dashing out the door and into a most likely stolen Camaro.

He blames it on his panicked disposition and his constant need for some excitement in this humdrum town.

Later, when they’re miles away, driving down a dusty dirt road in the middle of nowhere, laughing and kissing like teenagers in between planning their next getaway, Seth would blame it on the man – his name is Dean, he learns – and the seductive tilt of his head, the lure of his hypnotic voice and the promise of a life far more interesting with him in it than without.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and feedback is always appreciated! 
> 
> I was trying to push this out before my internet access goes out for the next week or so (perfect timing right before Battleground, huh?). Don’t be alarmed if I don’t respond to anything right away.


End file.
